


Raining

by prettybirdy979



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post The Great Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was raining when Lestrade arrived at the pool where Carl Powers died...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raining

**Author's Note:**

> An old work of mine, imported from LJ and written post-Great Game.

It had just begun to rain when the call came in. Lestrade had seen the new message on Sherlock’s site and he and his team were scrambling to try and figure out where Sherlock meant. Donovan’s check of John’s blog and she had noted that John and Sherlock were both missing, and the search had become even more frantic.

Then a report of an explosion at a London swimming pool came in. Everyone knew it was somehow connected to their mysterious bomber and it only took Lestrade’s team seconds to arrive at the conclusion that this was the pool Sherlock had been talking about on him website. They grabbed all their equipment and were on their way to the scene in record time.

Sherlock may not have been very well liked but he was a honourary Yarder in most of the policemen’s minds. And police would do anything they could to help one of their own.

Lestrade was very proud. Right up until he arrived at the pool and found the only emotion he could feel was horror.

And fear.

Fire fighters were all over the area, fighting the small fires that still burned. Paramedics were waiting for the go ahead to start searching the wreckage. And Lestrade’s team was closing down the scene, beginning to interview witnesses and searching for their missing colleague.

As soon as the last dangerous fire was put out, Lestrade had got himself attached to a paramedic who had the training required to search the wreckage. He had argued that there may be a dangerous criminal inside and had managed to convince them he was needed there.

He wasn’t prepared for what he found in the destroyed building. There were no lights working, torches being the only way they could see anything. The air inside was dusty, forcing Lestrade to wear a mask and he found his shoes getting very wet. It seemed the explosion had destroyed the pools’ wall and now all the water was everywhere.

There was still no sign of Sherlock.

Then, suddenly, Lestrade and his paramedic partner Tony found a gun being pointed at them.

‘I see you.’

They froze even as the man cocked the gun. Slowly, Lestrade lifted his torch beam so it was lighting up the man’s face.

He had never been so relieved to see Sherlock in his life, even if he was pointing what could only be an illegal gun at him.

‘Sherlock, its...’

‘Moriarty. Are you practicing your imitations now? Because that’s not a very good try at imitating Lestrade.’

‘Sherlock, it’s me!’ Lestrade pointed his torch at his face, closing his eyes as the bright light hit his eyes.

‘…Lestrade?’ Sherlock’s voice sounded weak now and it had a confused tone to it. Slowly he began to lower the gun.

‘Yes, I’m here to help you.’ Lestrade pointed his torch at Sherlock, causing the man to flinch and cover his eyes with his hand. Lestrade however didn’t notice this. He was too busy surveying the injuries on Sherlock. There was a bleeding wound on his torso, blood was barely visible on the side of his chest and there was a bad burn on his left leg. He was holding his shoulder wrong, and Lestrade guessed it to be dislocated from having seen similar looking stances in his footy days.

The most worrying thing, however, was the blood all over his hands.

‘Sherlock, what happened to your hands?!’ as Lestrade spoke Tony moved forward to help. Sherlock took a step back, keeping out of Tony’s way.

‘No, no. Don’t help me. I don’t need it.’

‘Sherlock!’ Lestrade cried.

‘Don’t yell.’ Tony said. ‘Look at his eyes, it’s probable he has a concussion and is a bit disorientated.’

Lestrade nodded. ‘Sherlock,’ he said softly. ‘You’re bleeding. You need help.’

‘I’m not the one who needs help.’ Sherlock was still walking backwards, forcing Lestrade and Tony to move with him.

‘Then who does?’ It wasn’t fair that even with a concussion Sherlock was still ten steps ahead of everyone else.

Sherlock looked Lestrade in the eyes, his own full of something; an emotion Lestrade would have called fear on anyone else’s face. ‘John.’ He said. ‘John needs your help.’

Then his legs gave out from under him and only Lestrade’s quick reflexes stopped Sherlock hitting his head on the ground. As he caught Sherlock, he dropped his torch. When he looked for it as he placed Sherlock on the ground, he was shocked to see a body in the torch beam.

Leaving Tony with Sherlock, he moved to examine the body. He was surprised to realise it was John, though he wasn’t sure why. John had been missing and Sherlock had said he needed their help…

Lestrade quickly checked if John was breathing. He sighed with relief when he realised John was, and called on his radio for another paramedic. Something began to bother him about Sherlock and how he had been standing but he ignored it.

Later, as he watched the pair being wheeled out of the broken building on stretchers he thought over what had happened. And he watched the ambulance leave, he realised what had bothered him about Sherlock’s position.

_He was standing directly in front of John, blocking him from our view. And he thought we were that bomber…oh what was his name? Moriarty? Sherlock was protecting John._ Lestrade thought over this realisation adding into it the look Sherlock had had in his eyes when asking them to help John.  _Maybe there is a good man in him after all…and his name is John._        

And the rain continued to fall.


End file.
